


Freudian Slip

by shut_the_jongup



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9559568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shut_the_jongup/pseuds/shut_the_jongup
Summary: Youngjae wasn't gay, right?  (sequel to this story has been posted: "Purkinje Lights Phenomenon")





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: some swearing and a lil makin' out

“So you  _ have _ kissed a boy.”

At these words Youngjae’s hand startled, and the tip of his pencil snapped off and flew into oblivion, little bits of led crumbling off the severed stick. He had walked right into the trap. Again.

“I was, like, 10, okay? He was curious and I agreed to help him out. It’s not a big deal,” Youngjae pulled a blue plastic pencil sharpener from his bag.

“You admit it!”

Youngjae tried to ignore the warmth rising in his cheeks, and turned his back to Junhong. “Yeah, so what?” He twisted the pencil in the sharpener above the trash can to the side to avoid getting little wood shavings all over the bed. “It’s not like I’m actually gay.”

There was silence as Youngjae sharpened his pencil, and he turned around to be met with an extremely unamused look from his friend. “What?”

In response Junhong simply raised an eyebrow.

“ _ What? _ ”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Apparently,” Junhong sighed and turned back to his textbook, doodling little figures hanging and dangling from the edges of letters.

Youngjae could’ve sworn he saw a hint of disappointment flash across his eyes, but before he could say anything Junhong was talking again.

* * *

 

The common room was supposed to be a safe place; free of harassment, allergenic foods, overly-touchy public displays of affection, and homework. But it never was, thanks to a certain someone who Youngjae swore had a serious addiction to his boyfriend; the latter constantly attempting to remind him that, no, they couldn’t make out there and no, he wouldn’t take off his shirt.

Unfortunately today was one of the days on which Jongup’s own reasoning failed him, and there Youngjae stood, leaning on the doorframe, glaring and Daehyun, who was seated on and straddling his boyfriend’s lap with hands rested on his hips. Youngjae cleared his throat loudly, but neither of the two seemed to notice. All he wanted was to use the kitchenette. The ramen wasn’t going to make itself, and he certainly didn’t need the help of these two in making it hot enough for the water to boil.

With a growl he snatched a pillow from one of the couches and swiftly brought it down across the back of Daehyun’s head.

“Ow,  _ fuck _ , you bit me!”

“I bite you all the time,” Daehyun defended, moving his mouth towards Jongup’s neck.

“Not my  _ tongue _ ,” Jongup placed a hand over his boyfriend’s face, keeping him from reconnecting.

Youngjae stood before them, ready to strike Daehyun again, when his target turned around with a grin.

“Hey there, Jaejae. Enjoy the show?”

“No, in fact, I did  _ not _ enjoy your ‘show’. I’m making ramen, do you want any?” He tossed the pillow at Daehyun with a little more than necessary force as he walked back to the kitchen area, grabbing a pot from the cupboard.

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ve already got dinner planned,” Daehyun smirked suggestively as he slipped his hand beneath Jongup’s shirt, only to have his wrist caught.

“Sorry about him,” Jongup apologized, pulling the hand away from his abdomen. “He’s being a horny little shit.”

“It seems worse than usual,” Youngjae commented as he filled the pot with two cups of water and placed it on the stove top.

“Jonguppie has been depriving me!” Daehyun complained, crushing his boyfriend in a hug.

“It’s called studying for midterms,” Jongup wheezed at the initial pressure but returned the embrace, resting his chin over Daehyun’s shoulder. “How’s your studying going?”

Youngjae watched as Jongup rubbed circles into a whining Daehyun’s back. “Between you and me, Junhong could take it a notch or two down with the talking,” he said.

Jongup laughed. “Why are you studying with him, then? Didn’t you say you work best by yourself?”

“You could always join us,” Daehyun piped up, his voice muffled by Jongup’s shoulder.

Youngjae ignored him and shrugged. “He asked, I said yes…I don’t know.” He trained his eyes back to the small bubbles forming in the heating water. “I like him.”

“You like him?”

“Who doesn’t like Junhong?” The bubbles began to grow bigger, steam hovering above the pot.

Jongup rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s not like I can turn him down, he gave me that  _ look _ ,” Youngjae complained. “You know, the puppy one.”

“Oh, I’m  _ well _ acquainted with the puppy look,” Jongup glanced sideways at his boyfriend. “But you’re avoiding the question.”

“What question?”

“Exactly, you don’t even realize; you’re ignoring it unconsciously.” Jongup raised a hand to card through Daehyun’s hair, and the older of the two nuzzled his face further into his shoulder.

“Ignoring what?” Youngjae turned away again to open the pack of ramen and dropped it into the water, hissing when a few drops of the boiling hot liquid landed on his hand.

“Oh, come on.” Daehyun lifted his head and shifted, putting his arms around Jongup’s neck to maintain his perch on his lap. “You know he likes you, and you obviously aren’t turning him down.”

Youngjae’s face burned as he sifted through the drawers for a pair of chopsticks. “He doesn’t like me that way, trust me.” He paused. “Even if he does, it’s not like it’d work out anyway.”

“And why is that?” Daehyun pressed.

“Do I really need to say it again?” Youngjae stirred the noodles, breaking the block apart with the chopsticks as they heated up. “I don’t like guys.”

“You literally just said that you liked Junhong. And Junhong is a  _ guy _ .”

“My god, not that way,” Youngjae rolled his eyes. “Will you ever let up?”

“No,” Jongup answered for him, “He won’t. Not until you give him what he wants, anyway.”

“Ah, my Jonguppie knows me so well,” Daehyun turned and poked Jongup’s cheek with his index finger.

Jongup leaned away, but Daehyun’s finger followed him, poking at his nose. “You’re so whiney,” Jongup complained, but there was a smile on his face as he swatted Daehyun’s finger away and grabbed his hand instead to press it to his lips.

Youngjae rolled his eyes at the sight but found himself staring, the frown slipping off his face and morphing more into an expression of sadness. He’d been lonely for a long time now; never had a lover in his life. And here he was, attending summer courses at a university to get ahead in his master’s degree program for fine arts. Alone.

Well, not  _ alone _ alone, he had friends of course, albeit not many. There was Yongguk, Himchan and Daehyun, all going for their master’s degrees as well, and then Jongup and Junhong, who were staying there for some summer dance camp, along with extra credit classes. They were all dating people, too, except for Junhong, and that often left Youngjae to brood in his room (that he unfortunately shared with Daehyun, though the latter was hardly actually  _ in _ it) while they all went on dates or sat in the common room, making out. Like Daehyun and Jongup were doing. Right then. It was at that moment Youngjae realized he had zoned out and was watching the couple really go at it without even realizing, and he turned back around to find the water boiling over, sizzling as it dripped onto the stovetop.

“Shit,” he swore quietly, sticking the chopsticks into the water and turning the temperature down. Shaking his head at how easily he had gotten distracted (this didn’t usually happen), he grabbed the flavor packet and tore off the corner, dumping the powder into the pot and stirring it in, watching the particles dissolve along with his will to live.

“Youngjaeeeeee…” Suddenly a familiar voice spoke up from his left, and Youngjae jerked his head towards the source of the noise. He immediately regretted his action as his forehead collided with something hard and he stepped back, clutching his head.

“Dammit, Junhong, don’t  _ do  _ that,” he said, looking up at the younger, who seemed far less affected by the crash.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you, it’s just that you’re always so aware of your surroundings so I just kinda figured…” Junhong trailed off as he grabbed Youngjae’s wrists, pulling them away from his head to inspect the damage himself. “It doesn’t look too bad; I think you’ll make it,” he decided with a playful grin. “Though I think…just to be safe…” Junhong’s voice quieted and he swooped down to press his lips to Youngjae’s forehead. “There. Now go sit down, I’ll get the bowls.”

Youngjae turned robotically and strode past Daehyun and Jongup, who had stopped feeling each other up to watch the encounter, and plopped down heavily on the loveseat.

“What was  _ that _ all about?” Daehyun asked suspiciously, reaching his foot out to kick Youngjae in the shin.

“What was  _ what _ all about?” Youngjae kicked back.

“Are you kidding me?” Daehyun turned to his boyfriend. “He’s kidding, right?”

Jongup squinted, sliding his glasses back on. “I don’t think so,” he responded. “Looks to me like we can officially diagnose him with unintentional denial.”

“Say, Youngjae,” Daehyun spoke up again, “have you been experiencing any strange, lingering thoughts? Perhaps things you may think you are uncomfortable with?” At Youngjae’s incredulous look, he went on. “Interesting. Maybe he really  _ doesn’t _ know.”

“Look, Daehyun. I know you  _ think _ you’re whispering, but you’re really not,” Youngjae finally responded. “And I don’t want to hear anymore of this, I’ve had enough for one day.”

At the seriousness in his friend’s voice, Daehyun had the sense to shut up, and he sighed, eyeing the way Youngjae ran his fingers over the spot Junhong’s lips had touched just a few moments ago, which was weird, because Youngjae wasn’t gay. Right?

* * *

 

“…um, ni shi Zhongguo…ren…ma?”

“Good, now can you write it out?” Youngjae passed Junhong a piece of paper. “And the response,” he added.

你是中国人马?

我不是中国人，我是韩国人。

Youngjae compared it to the writing on the answer key. “Uh, I  _ think _ that’s right…maybe you should compare it, I took Japanese as an undergrad, so I’m not really the best at Mandarin.”

Junhong rolled his eyes. “Why did I ask  _ you _ for help?”

“Hm, because you aren’t friends with anyone in your Chinese class and you’re too shy to ask the teacher or the tutors?” Youngjae handed him the sheet with the responses on it.

Junhong huffed. “Look, Lai Laoshi is scary, and I can’t be going to tutors for the  _ first test. _ ”

Youngjae raised a brow and looked at him. “Why not?”

Junhong suddenly looked uncomfortable, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Just…’cause…” he trained his eyes on the paper, but Youngjae could tell he wasn’t actually reading anything on it.

“What, you just enjoy being around me that much?” Youngjae teased.

Junhong raised his head, a sudden smirk playing at his lips. “Of course,” he said. “I’m just absolutely smitten with you.” He placed the paper off to the side and began to crawl closer to Youngjae, who suddenly regretted his words.

“Who isn’t?” Youngjae laughed awkwardly, a feeble attempt to contain his nervousness.

It didn’t seem to do any good in rescuing him, however, when Junhong pounced and pushed Youngjae down so that he was laying on top of him, engulfing the smaller of the two in a massive bear hug.

“ _ Junhong _ ,” Youngjae rasped out. “ _ Can’t _ …” he coughed, “ _ breathe _ !”

Junhong sat up, but the smirk was still there as he looked down at Youngjae, who was panting for air. “Ah, sorry about that. I have a tendency to take people’s breath away,” he said slyly.

 

And for the next hour of studying, Youngjae found himself trying to get that look out of his head, to stop re-imagining the feel of Junhong’s arms holding him close to his body. It had only been for a brief moment, part of which included him literally being suffocated, but aside from that, he had actually enjoyed the feeling of being held. Which was weird, because Youngjae wasn’t gay. Right?

* * *

“Youngjae! Youngjaeyoungjaeyoungjae open up!!”

“Goddammit, Youngjae, control your boyfriend,” Daehyun mumbled from his bed, where he was cocooned in a swath of blankets with Jongup, trying to take an afternoon nap in celebration of his last midterm being completed. It had been going well, until a certain someone began to bang on their door with very excited fists.

Youngjae didn’t even bother arguing Daehyun’s statement, and instead settled for rolling his eyes, rising from his chair with a resounding screech of wooden legs against the tiled floor. No sooner had he unlocked the door than Junhong was barreling into the room with a large, yellow bag of chocolate chips in his hands and eyes that were sparkling with excitement.

“Youngjae!! Guess what!!”

Said boy had next to no time to brace himself before he was grabbed and shoved out of the room, leaving a very confused Daehyun and a very not caring Jongup behind.

“Wait, wait! Whoa, Junhong!” Youngjae pulled back and Junhong stopped dragging him down the hallway, but didn’t let go of his hand. He looked back, and Youngjae could see how impatient he was.

“What’s the rush?” He continued. “Where are we going?”

“Oh, I should’ve told you,” Junhong looked thoughtful for a second. “We’re baking cookies!”

Youngjae’s brow furrowed. “Cookies? But…we don’t have an oven?”

“Not  _ here,  _ idiot. Yongguk and Himchan said they would let me use theirs! The only ingredient they didn’t have was the chocolate chips, so…” he raised the yellow bag in his other hand, waving it around.

“You’re going to their apartment just to bake cookies?”

“Well, why not?” Junhong grinned. “Midterms are over, so I figure we’re due for a celebration. I was gonna invite Daehyun and Jongup to come along, too, but they seem to be busy.”

“But why am  _ I _ coming? I’m not a huge fan of sweets…” Youngjae trailed off, and Junhong’s expression immediately fell.

“You don’t want to?”

God, he sounded so  _ heartbroken _ . Junhong dropped Youngjae’s hand and hugged the bag of chocolate chips to his chest.  _ Oh, god, _ Youngjae thought.  _ Here comes the puppy look. _

It was certainly an odd sight, actually: this six foot two sophomore embracing a bright yellow bag of chocolate as if it were holding his life together. Maybe it was.

The poor kid looked absolutely crestfallen, his eyes shimmering and mouth pulled down into a deep frown. Youngjae felt guilt cramping in his stomach. “No, no! That’s not what I said,” he reached out and grabbed Junhong’s hand back in both of his. “Of course I want to go with you. I was just confused.”

As soon as the words were out, Junhong’s face lit up again, another grin replacing his frown.

“Good.”

 

***

 

Through the entire bus ride and the walk, Junhong didn’t let go of Youngjae’s hand. Youngjae wasn’t sure why  _ he  _ didn’t let go either; maybe he was afraid he might upset Junhong again if he did. Yeah, that had to be why.

When Himchan opened the door, Youngjae noticed him eyeing their joined hands, but he didn’t say anything about it as he ushered them inside. Instead he yelled for Yongguk, telling him that he was a terrible host for not greeting his company.

Youngjae shook his head with a laugh. “What would he do without you?”

“Probably perish in isolation,” Junhong suggested.

Himchan snorted. “Damn right,” he added with a wink.

A door opened down the hall, Yongguk’s head poking out. “Hi.”

And with that the door shut again.

“Honestly,” Himchan mumbled, bringing his hand up to squeeze his temples. “He’s been holing himself up working lately,” he said with a sigh. “I’m gonna go make him come out. Let’s just hope he hasn’t gone full on hermit again. You two can go ahead and get started.”

After Himchan had vanished, Youngjae turned to Junhong. “That’s happened before?”

Junhong shrugged. “Yeah, just a couple times.”

“How have I not heard about this?”

“I mean, it’s not a huge deal, he just kinda…isolates himself with his work and doesn’t eat or shower or anything.”

“Um, that’s not good,” Youngjae said, a crease in his brows.

“Of course not, but Himchan takes care of him, you know. He does his best not to let it happen.” Junhong smiled down at Youngjae, and held out the bag of chocolate chips. “So. Ready?”

 

***

 

“Oh my god!”

Youngjae felt the blood drain from his face at the sound of Himchan’s voice coming from the entrance to the kitchen.

“ _ What  _ in the name of all that is good in this world happened?!”

“Um,” Junhong began intelligently.

“I may or may not have dropped the flour,” Youngjae offered. He and Junhong were both on their knees, trying desperately to sweep all of the powder into the dustpan. Youngjae, however, was absolutely  _ heaped  _ in the grain, his hair white and clothing heavily dusted.

“ _ I  _ dropped the flour,” Junhong argued, pointing a finger to his chest and dusting his t-shirt with white.

“No,  _ I  _ dropped the flour,” Youngjae retaliated.

“I–“

“ _ I _ do not  _ care  _ who dropped the flour,” Himchan interrupted. “Just get it cleaned up. Lord, save me,” he turned and went back to the living room, where he had finally managed to drag Yongguk out to.

Junhong laughed. “You know, Youngjae, white is a good color on you.”

“Do you  _ want  _ to die?” Youngjae scooped a handful of flour from the ground and made as if to throw it.

“Nah, I can’t work white. Must be your eyes that make the look,” Junhong winked at him. “Why did you tell him  _ you  _ dropped the flour, by the way? The only reason you’re covered head to toe is because I dropped it  _ on  _ you,” he raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, I was reenacting that  _ iconic  _ scene from  _ Spartacus _ , duh.”

“Wow, you’re really starting to rival even  _ Jongup’s  _ level of geek,” Junhong responded with a laugh.

Youngjae rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just clean this up and finish with the dough.”

 

Exactly one hour later, the kitchen of Yongguk and Himchan’s apartment was cleaner than it had been even before Youngjae and Junhong had entered the scene, and there was a plate piled with chocolate chip cookies on the counter. Junhong stepped back to admire their work, and turned to Youngjae with his hand in the air. Youngjae slapped it with his own. “Nice.”

 

***

 

“Damn, what recipe did you guys use?” Himchan asked as he bit into a warm cookie.

“We didn't use a recipe,” Junhong answered.

Himchan immediately froze. “Should I spit this out?” He asked slowly, glancing at the trash can by the door.

“No, no,” Youngjae said. “It  _ is  _ a recipe, I just have it memorized.”

“So you  _ didn’t  _ come up with that on your own.” Junhong folded his arms across his chest. “I knew it.”

“I never said I did,” Youngjae replied. “It’s just the recipe that my dad and I used to use when I was a kid. I can’t seem to forget it,” he said thoughtfully.

“It’s getting really late,” Himchan said, sounding surprised. “Do you guys just wanna crash here tonight?”

“Oh, that’s alri–“

“We’d love to!” Junhong interrupted Youngjae, grabbing his arm. “I call the couch!”

Himchan laughed. “We have a futon, you know.”

“I changed my mind,” Junhong declared. “I call the futon!”

“It’s a queen, you two can just share it,” Himchan said with an eye roll, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve gotta finish up a paper, but make yourselves at home. Just don’t be too loud, I only finally got Yongguk to sleep twenty minutes ago. Just don’t use my toothbrush.”

Junhong snorted. “How would you even know if one of us used your toothbrush?”

“I would know,” Himchan said with a glance back from where he was at the doorway. “Be polite to your hosts, jeez. Kids these days,” he mumbled as he left the room.

 

***

 

“How the fuck does this work?” Junhong groaned.

Youngjae rolled his eyes from his seat on the couch and looked up from his phone to see Junhong sprawled across the futon.

“My god, Junhong, have you never used one of those before?”

“No, but I can figure it out,” his voice strained as he stretched over the side, looking for something. “Ow.”

With a sigh, Youngjae rose and made his way over. “Get off,” he directed.

Junhong complied, and followed Youngjae around the the side of the futon to grab the stick holding the back of the thing up. “You just have to pull these out,” he said. “There’s one on either side. Go get the other one so we can lower it together.”

Once the futon had been successfully lowered, the only casualties being Junhong’s toes, which found hell in being kicked against the wood of the furniture, the two flopped down on the mattress, the exhaustion of the day hitting them simultaneously.

“Blanket,” Junhong mumbled weakly, raising an arm as if reaching for something only to let it fall back to his side with a soft thump.

“Do I have to do everything?” Youngjae complained as he sat up, scanning the room to find a stack of throw blankets next to the TV. He grabbed a couple, along with the pillows from the couch, and threw everything at Junhong.

“Thanks,” the younger boy mumbled, not moving.

Youngjae face-palmed and returned to his spot on the futon, pulling a blanket and pillow from the mound that was his friend, and snuggled into the fabric, feeling cold now that he wasn't moving around, despite the summer heat.

 

***

 

“They’re so cute,” Himchan gushed, pulling Yongguk over to the living room. “You’ve gotta see them, it’s adorable!”

“I’ll bet,” Yongguk grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

Himchan ignored his question. “See, look! It’s so sweet. They’re all innocent and pure, I miss when we were like that.”

“We were never like that, Channie, and you know it.” Yongguk looked down at the two boys sleeping on the futon. Junhong had practically engulfed Youngjae. There were a couple blankets strewn across their legs, which were intertwined, and Youngjae had his head on a pillow, the other being squashed between his chest and arms. “Aww, that’s cute,” Yongguk said, smiling. “They don’t have midterms today, right?”

“Nah, they’re both done. I know Junhong is leaving tomorrow to visit his family for the break, but I’m not sure about Youngjae,” Himchan answered. “Just let them sleep. Let’s grab breakfast.”

“Did you have any plans for today?” Yongguk asked as they entered the kitchen.

Himchan opened the fridge to pull out the carton of orange juice. “Nope. I am not leaving this apartment,” he said with a bright smile on his face.

“Don’t you have to work?” Yongguk pulled a box of cereal from the shelf.

“Not until Monday,” Himchan placed a glass of the juice on the table and then proceeded to prepare the coffee maker.

Yongguk sat down at the table with a bowl of cereal and took a sip of the juice Himchan had put out for him. “I’ll never understand why you make me drink orange juice so much,” he mused.

“Vitamins,” Himchan called over his shoulder while pouring himself a cup of coffee, then dumping in way too much creamer.

Yongguk rolled his eyes and unfolded the newspaper.

“I can’t believe you read the newspaper. That’s such a Yongguk thing to do,” Himchan shook his head as he took a seat next to Yongguk.

“If it’s such a Yongguk thing to do, then why can’t you believe it?”

“Touché,” Himchan glanced at the back of the paper in Yongguk’s hands. “Whoa, is that this weekend’s forecast?” There were little clouds with thunderbolts above Saturday and Sunday, which seemed strange because the weather had been so tame lately. There was suddenly a soft roll of thunder, and Himchan sighed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. “I guess it is,” he answered his own question.

 

* * *

 

Junhong’s eyes snapped open to a loud boom coming from outside. “Thunder?” He wondered out loud. “In the morning? Huh.” He shrugged and closed his eyes, not ready to wake up yet, and snuggled back into his pillow. Which he then realized was  _ not  _ a pillow. It was something much better; that being a very small, very soft, and very warm human named Youngjae. To be honest, Junhong had been drawn to the guy ever since he first met him earlier that year. At first he simply intrigued him, but it later began to grow into something much more complicated and confusing. But recently Junhong had found himself stuck; he had been sending Youngjae hints at his affections for a while now, but the latter seemed to take little to no notice of the advances.

Junhong looked down at the boy in his arms and buried his nose in the soft, chocolatey brown hair. He knew that Youngjae was probably straight, he claimed to be, at least, but no way in hell had  _ that  _ been stopping him from trying to hook his man.

Said “man” began to stir as the thunder grew louder, curling back into Junhong as he buried his face in the pillow being hugged to his chest. With a deep sigh, Youngjae opened his eyes. He felt drowsy enough that he could shut them and fall back asleep immediately, but there was suddenly a loud crack outside that jerked him awake, and he sat up, looking around.

Junhong groaned from his spot next to him. “Youngjae,” he whined, “come back…” a hand curled around the back of Youngjae’s shirt and he soon found himself falling back down onto the mattress, now facing Junhong.

“Ugh, so loud…” the older complained, nuzzling his face into Junhong’s chest. He felt arms circle around his back and pull him closer, but he didn’t try to pull away. It was early, Youngjae was tired, and he didn’t feel like putting any effort whatsoever towards pulling away from Junhong’s warm body. And maybe he liked it a little. Yeah, just a little.

“Ah, I had my suspicions, but now I see it is confirmed,” a voice suddenly broke the silence between the two. “Why didn’t you two tell me you were a thing now?” Youngjae looked up, meeting the gaze of none other than Kim Himchan.

“We’re not,” he grumbled. “Now shh, I’m comfy.”

“Is that so? Well, it certainly  _ looks  _ like you are,” Himchan challenged.

Youngjae shushed the elder again, and he seemed to give up, leaving the room with a sigh.

There was a long silence, and Youngjae had almost fallen asleep again (definitely  _ not  _ to the strong, steady beat of Junhong’s heart) when he heard the younger speak up quietly.

“We could, you know.”

“Hm? Could what?” Youngjae asked groggily, confused.

“You know, be a…a  _ thing _ . We could…be a  _ thing _ .” Junhong suddenly sounded nervous, and Youngjae could feel rather than hear his heartbeat picking up.

“I don’t–“ Youngjae faltered.  _ Where was this coming from all of a sudden?  _ “But I–“

“Don’t like boys?” Junhong finished for him.

Youngjae nodded, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you like  _ me _ ?” He grabbed Youngjae’s hands and held them between them.

“I…I don’t know?”

Junhong smiled. He was so cute. “Is that a maybe?”

“I…I guess,” Youngjae confirmed, trying to will the blush away from his cheeks. “But it’s weird; I’m not gay, and I like  _ you _ .”

Junhong smiled. “You like me?”

“I–what? Did I–“

“Say that out loud?” Junhong finished. “Yes. Yes, you did. Ah, the joys of the Freudian Slip.”

Youngjae was silent.

“So is that a yes, then?” Junhong asked.

“Yes to what?”

“To going out with me.”

“Oh…” Youngjae thought about it. He had been alone for so long now, and he _did_ kind of like Junhong…oh, what the hell? “Okay. Yeah, it’s a yes.”

“Yes!” Junhong cheered, diving down to peck Youngjae’s cheek, then pulling him closer for an awkward laying-down hug.

“But I’m still confused,” Youngjae stated.

Junhong pulled back and looked at his new boyfriend. “Confused? About what?” Worry creased his forehead.

“It’s just…what does this make me? I’m not gay, but you’re a  _ guy _ , so I can’t be straight, either, but then again I’ve never really  _ liked  _ a girl–or a  _ guy,  _ for that matter, and–“

“You don’t need to label yourself, Youngjae,” Junhong interrupted softly. “Don’t overthink it.”

There was a long pause.

…

“I’m Junhong-sexual.”

The statement took Junhong by surprise, but he quickly hid it with a smirk. “Ah, so it’s sexual now, is it?”

Youngjae’s cheeks burned. “That’s not–“

“Shh, go back to sleep, Sunshine.”

“Who are you calling Sunshine, Sunshine?”

“It’s not an insult,” Junhong snorted softly.

“Whatever,” Youngjae stated begrudgingly, burrowing back into his new boyfriend’s embrace as the rain finally began to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :) please let me know if you enjoyed!! I love hearing from you all xx
> 
> P.S, the sequel to this is up!! http://archiveofourown.org/works/10441584


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